


Asaara

by 914321



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Family, Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Single Parents, Trespasser Spoilers, road movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/914321/pseuds/914321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Inquisition had been disbanded, Cylas Lavellan rescues a vashoth girl during his travels up north. Unwilling to endanger nor abandon the girl, he takes her with her along on his travels through Thedas, slowly bonding with each other on the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asaara

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story exploring two of my favourite themes: family relationships and road movies. With less roads and more elks.   
> I don't really have much to say about it but I'll update the tags as I write the chapters. There's a little bit of Pavellan but essentially it's not a romance story. 
> 
> My grammar is terrible however so if you spot any mistakes I'd be really happy if they could be pointed out to me!!

Behind her, there was only hateful yelling.

The girl held onto the hand of the tal-vashoth warrior, panting and struggling to keep up with him as the two ran through the forest. The sound of her heart pounded in her ears; occasionally she stumbled but she did not care, desperate to gain as much distance between them and the Tevinter soldiers behind them. Breathing hurt her chest and she could barely see the trees past the tears that blurred her vision, she kept gasping and glancing around.

_'Hissera! Hissera!'_ She thought desperately, but her parents were - she saw her father cut down before her eyes, her mother desperately trying to fend them off, urging her to leave. The last image of her mother was of her fighting with a knife in her side, roaring and pushing the elves back with her sword. She desperately clung onto the hope that they would catch up with them, but the other tal-vashoth thought differently as he urged them both to keep running - he could see the elves chasing after them and he knew it was too late.

The girl's breathing became tighter, not paying attention to the path in front of her she tripped over a root and fell.

"Asaara!" The warrior yelled,

He turned his attention to her and hoisted her up roughly, as he did he yelled and grabbed his shoulder. In that brief moment, an elf fired an arrow at him while two more caught up to them.

The tal-vashoth immediately drew his sword and started to fight them off but he was outnumbered and wounded. As he drove his sword into one of the elves another immediately slashed at his blind spot, bringing him down onto the ground.

She gasped and the elf turned to her, lifting his sword up high to strike her down. Her hands flew to her face, fearing the fatal blow. 

A scream.

She lowered her hands and her eyes widened; the soldier collapsed onto the floor screaming as someone pulled a dagger from underneath his side.  A hooded figure stood behind him and immediately pounced and stabbed him once more in his neck, the blood sprayed out and he gurgled blood. Immediately he turned his attention to the archer who was attacking the tal-vashoth warrior, moving so quickly that the girl barely realised that he grabbed him and pulled him back. She did not see him draw a weapon but immediately a silver blade emerged from his left hand and he sliced the elf's neck. The archer gurgled and tried to raise his hand, trying to speak. 

The girl froze, staring at the person in fearful awe as he dropped the limp body. She couldn't move; couldn't decide whether he was friend or foe. 

The figure stepped over the body and knelt down beside the tal-vashoth warrior. As she focused on her companion again, her heart dropped -- blood was streaming out of a wound from his side and arrows jutted out of his body, he coughed blood and glanced at the warrior weakly, barely focusing but beckoning the stranger to him. The stranger leaned closer and she saw the tal-vashoth's lips move, uttering silent words to the stranger. As soon as he finished speaking he closed his eyes and his head fell to the side. His body was finally still. 

The stranger stood up again, and walked to her, her body tensed up as he approached her but she couldn't move, couldn't run from him. 

"It's okay." He murmured; his accent was strange, it was soft and low with rounded words. He pulled his cowl down and she gasped at the sight of his long pointed ears and dark blue tattoos etched into his brown skin. 

He reached out and touched her gently, "I won't hurt you." He said quietly. It was too much; as soon as she felt the warmth of his skin she pressed her face into his chest, crying loudly from both exhaustion and bitterness.

 

* * *

 

Cylas Lavellan - former leader to the Inquisition and hero of Thedas - was currently found riding his elk through the Anderfels before he found the ambushed tal-vashoth group. It had been a matter of coincidence; he was on his way to the Tevinter Imperium, hoping to meet up with one of his agents in Minrathous. Ever since he had disbanded the Inqusition, he had been gathering his own forces in Kirkwall, juggling between hunting for an ancient elf bent on destroying the world and running a modest organisation of assassins and spies. He had as many enemies as he had friends and had a tendency to wander through dangerous territory - like Weisshaupt where tension amongst the Grey Wardens was high. 

With all that in mind he was pretty sure that he was not the best person to take care of a small child.  

The tal-vashoth girl (or vashoth? He honestly wish there was a more general term for situations like this) had not said anything since he rescued her. There were moments where he feared that she fell asleep, concerned that he might have to support her and steer the stubborn elk, but occasionally she would jump at a sudden sound and grip onto the saddle more tightly. She was small, a long gangly frame with white hair that stuck against her grey skin, small horns jutted out of her head. There scrapes all over her arms and legs and her clothes did not look like anything he has seen before, he suspected she must have come from Qunari territory, although that did not explain the elves.  

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and grimaced, he was only meant to travel up to Minrathous in relative peace and now he has a small child on tow to go to a nation that bitterly hated the Qunari. 

He looked at the girl as she released one hand to scrub at her eyes, it might have been lucky that he intervened but what was he going to do with her now? Wrap his cloak around her and hope that no one noticed the horns? Give her to the Grey Wardens? Find the nearest chantry and hand her over? Absolutely no one would love a qunari child like her. Including the Qunari.

He sighed and halted his elk, "We're setting camp now."

The girl's eyes widened as they stopped and looked at Cylas as he climbed off his elk. He pulled down his pack from the back of the saddle and laid it on the ground, he knelt down and started rummaging through his bags. Noticing that he no longer paid her any attention, she gulped and gripped the saddle tightly, her body twisted to the side and one leg swung over to the other side of the saddle. Hesitanlly, she shifted her weight forward, realising how tall the animal was as she tried desperately to reach the ground. Her foot slip and immediately she clung onto the saddle and animal to stop herself from falling, causing it to bellow and rear up. 

"What in the-"

A hand shot out and caught her, roughly grabbing her and dropping her onto the ground. Hastily grabbing the reins, the elf started to calm the creature down, "What are you doing?! Don't you know how to get off?" He snapped, not paying attention to how shaken she was or how she backed away from him. "An elk is most dangerous when he's scared, be careful."

He huffed and went back to his pack, pulling out a map and unrolling it. He frowned; it was just as he thought, between here and Minrathous there was only Weisshaupt and he had no time to go to Hossberg  to see if by some chance there was someone willing to take her in. "Just what were you tal-vashoth doing running between the Anderfels and the Tevinter Imperium?" He muttered to himself. 

"We - we were going to Nevarra."

He looked up at the girl, sitting very far away from the elk and tucking her arms under her knees, her gaze was hesitant and kept switching between him and the ground. 

"So you do speak Common. Was that man your father?"

She shook her head, "He was Hissrad. He followed me and my parents when we left Seheron. They fought the elves so we could escape."

_Hissrad_ , which would mean he was part of the Ben-Hassareth. So those elves could be viddathari...

"Why Nevarra?" He asked.

There was a look of hesitation on her face, clearly she was uncomfortable with talking about it. 

"It's...safer. No one would have to guard the entrance anymore." 

"I see..." They must have come from the west of Seheron; with Qunari-Tevinter tension high again he doubt they would have the resources to send more Ben-Hasserath spies at least. He stood up again, "What's your name?"

"A - Asaara."

"Cylas." He responded, "Come on, let's set up the camp. Do you know how to start a fire?"

 

* * *

  

Once the camp was set, Cylas disappeared to hunt while Asaara sat around the fire. He reappeared and she looked up, surprised that he had not returned with any meat. It wasn't until he took out a pot did he produce fruits from his satchel and - to her horror - inects. He saw the look of horror on her face and the way her toes curled inwards as he poured a bag of grubs into the pot and smirked, turning his attention back to his cooking, adding salt and spices that he carried in his pack. Despite her revulsion, the scent of the spices cooking reminded her how hungry she was and she waited for him to finish in both dread and anticipation. When he was done, he shoved a bowl of fried grubs into her hands,

"Eat up."

She gulped, looking down at her bowl she grimaced, their bodies were fat and browned from the heat and she despised him for not having the decency to remove their heads.

She picked through her bowl moodily before picking one and biting into it, shuddering as she dropped it and set her bowl aside. But hunger still got the better of her and throughout the night she would make attempts to eat the grubs again, unhappy and repulsed. It wasn't until she poked around again that Cylas sighed and put down his bowl and went back to rummage around his pack and produced a package wrapped in paper. He unwrapped it and produced a flat cake which he handed to her.

"Here, before you hurt yourself eating that."

She took it from him sceptically, scrutinising the dark dots before Cylas reassured her those were currants and not more insects. Hesitantly she bit into it, her eyes widening as it crumbled into her mouth, sweet and soft. She started to wolf it down, her eyes watering slightly as she realised it was the first full meal she had all day.  

Once they were done they sat around the fire, sharing the small and slightly sour apples between them. Cylas rubbed his left shoulder, a look of discomfort formed on his face when he rolled his shoulder and he started to remove his clothes. As he pulled off his shirt Asaara couldn't help but stop mid-chew and gape at him.

His entire forearm and left hand was made of silverite, finger were sculpted so they were slightly curled. At the end of it was a leather harness that appeared to serve the purpose of keeping it secure to his upper arm, straps ran up his arm and over his shoulder. He undid the straps and pulled it off slowly, sighing in relief as he removed it and revealing the pinkish flesh underneath. He glanced at her while she was staring with her mouth open and grinned, "I prefer it to my old hand." He remarked, pressing a button on the underside of the metal arm which caused a blade to shoot out. She gasped and dropped her apple, staring in awe as he put it aside and stretched out his arm. 

"What happened to your arm?" She asked, her curiosity overcoming her timidity.

"This? Well…” He started, sounding calm and contemplative as he did his stretches, “One day I got a scar on my hand that hurt a lot and found a very old and bald elf to help me fix it. I helped him, he helped me, we both became good friends and then one day the bald elf told me 'oh Lavellan! You are a great friend and taught me many things but I'm old and everything was much better back in the days'. And so _chop!_ He cuts my arm off, said ‘sorry for the mess’ and then disappeared to destroy the world." He concluded, by the end of his explanation he took a very large bite from his apple and glared sourly at the fire. 

At this point the girl who was about to bite into her apple stopped and stared at him, there were moments when she felt that she could trust the elf, but at this very moment she was reminded that he may possibly be a bit mad.  Sensing that there must be a reason for the bitter sarcasm and fantastical story, she politely nodded and went back to studying her apple. 

After a while it was Cylas's turn to ask a question, 

"Where did you learn common?"

It was a relief to hear him break the silence and she was quite willing to answer just to stop it from being awkward. "From Ash. He taught me. Hissera liked speaking in Qunlat."

"Ash and Hissera... are they your parents?"

"Yeah. Ash is my father and Hissera is my mother."

"What happened... to them?"

A heavy weight dropped in her stomach, quietly she tried to distract herself from the feeling by nibbling her apple while she talked, "They... Ash was watching the entrance and then someone attacked him. Hissera told me and Hissrad to run and she went to save Ash. And then..." She paused and rubbed her eyes roughly, a soft sniffle could be heard and she tucked her knees tighter into her body and hid her face, her sobs slowly growing audible. 

Cylas immediately regretted his question; he jerked back at the sound of her sobs and glanced around and stared at his elk, as if somehow wanting to shove the burden of consoling the child to the creature. He knew better to ask but once again his mouth and curiosity got the better of him.  Gingerly he reached out and pet her, muttering “it's alright.” as if that would somehow fix things. She leaned against his body, causing him to immediately stiffen, hand hovering awkwardly over her head. His hand settled on her shoulder briefly, giving her a moment to release her emotions before he pulled her away and looked down at her.

He didn't have a choice. He had to bring her with him.

"Listen - It's dangerous if you stay with me, I'll be travelling to Tevinter and it will be a while until we leave. But I promise, I will protect you until we get you somewhere safe." He smiled gently, "Do you trust me, Asaara?"

She sniffed and wiped her eyes, deep down she was still afraid of him. But something about the sincerity of his words reminded her vaguely of her father and that was enough for her to trust him. She looked up at him; staring at his eyes, a striking green against his dark face and she nodded.

“Good.” Awkwardly he added, "He said sorry by the way - Hissrad. Before he died."

She paused and after a while she finally said, “He was kind.”

That night, she watched Cylas while she was tucked in his bedroll. He was sitting by the fire still tending to his weapons while staring out in the distance, watching tirelessly over their campsite.

Just before sleep overtook her, for the briefest moment, she thought she saw her mother again. 


End file.
